


Not Quite Alone

by phoenixquest



Series: Ryndoril and Ondolemar [16]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anal Fingering, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:51:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2698574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixquest/pseuds/phoenixquest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ondolemar's had a rough day, and decides a bit of relaxation is in order. He doesn't know that Ryndoril's coming home any minute, but once the Bosmer catches a glimpse of the golden elf pleasuring himself, the secret's out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite Alone

Ondolemar sighed, trying to relax a little. It had been a trying day, with a brief visit from the Ambassador bringing the delivery of several dossiers he now needed to read and familiarize himself with. When he couldn’t read the words anymore for the thoughts of Ryndoril swimming through his head, he finally gave up and took a bath, hoping the warm water would calm him.

It had not.

Everything was generally harder when the Bosmer was away for very long; Ryndoril had a way of relaxing him, of making him feel content, that he could never quite replicate without the other elf. Some days he missed him more than others; days when he had to deal with Elenwen made it almost a certainty.

Ryndoril had only been gone a week this time so far, having heard about a ruin somewhere in the Pale that he simply _had_ to investigate. It didn’t surprise Ondolemar in the slightest, naturally. Even so, he missed the Bosmer’s company.

The warm bath had only served to add to Ondolemar’s frustrations. The water caressing his naked flesh merely made him wish that it were the Bosmer’s fingers doing that very thing. No matter how little time he spent apart from Ryndoril, he always managed to desperately _want_ him when he wasn’t around. Inconvenient in the extreme, of course, but being reunited with the Bosmer always tended to make the wait worth it.

It looked like for tonight, at least, he would simply have to imagine. Not quite the same, but already he knew the Bosmer so well, knew his touch, his quirks, everything, that it was very easy to do. To imagine it was Ryndoril’s fingers, slowly sliding up his bare stomach, flicking over a sensitive nipple, as his own did then. Breathing a sigh of relief at just the small touch, he knew he’d made the right decision; this was what he’d needed.

Gathering himself before he was too far gone, he rooted out the oil from his bedside table and set it within easy reach for later. It was late at night, and he knew he would have no one to disturb him; he may as well make the most of it and enjoy himself as well as he could. Settling back against his pillows, sparing only a moment to wish they were Ryndoril’s warm body, he shut his eyes, imagining his lover’s dark brown eyes, his tanned skin.

Image firmly in place, Ondolemar proceeded to again bring one hand up his chest, rubbing gently over one nipple and then the other while his other hand clenched in the bed linens beneath him. Ryndoril loved how sensitive his nipples were, he knew; the elf nearly always gave them a bit of attention. His own touch wasn’t quite the same, but it was enough to keep him interested. It did feel very good, after all, the light touch on the now-hardened pebbles of flesh.

Letting his mind take over, Ondolemar let his hand trail down to his length, half-hardened already from his musings and his own touch. Wrapping his fingers around himself, he stroked lazily, a small sigh escaping parted lips as he imagined the Bosmer teasing him this way. That brought to mind the elf teasing him with his lips; such a talented mouth Ryndoril had, and Ondolemar allowed himself a soft groan as he pictured those lips sliding over him, enveloping him.

His hand picked up its pace then, the excitement getting the better of him; a bit of fluid leaked out already, and it was feeling this beneath his fingers that caused Ondolemar to let out a harsh breath and slow down. He squeezed his tip with two fingers, playing now and giving himself a chance to calm down. He wasn’t quite ready for this to be over so quickly.

His free hand had gone back to caressing his nipples, pinching and tugging at them every so often as the long fingers on his other hand stroked his cock, slowly, _slowly_. His breathing was harsh now, getting more worked up at his own touch, still desperately wishing it was Ryndoril’s, imagining the other elf’s rough voice as his desire overwhelmed him and whimpering aloud as he gave himself a particularly hard stroke.

As usual, Ondolemar found himself impatient quickly, and reached for the bottle of oil. He kept his eyes shut, coating his fingers from feel alone, because with closed eyes he could still _almost_ pretend it was Ryndoril there with him. He wasn’t willing to interrupt the illusion, and he’d done this so many times it hardly mattered if he could see.

He quickly dipped his hand between his legs, twisting at the awkward angle he needed to allow himself entrance and swirled his finger around the tight ring of muscle, letting himself savor the anticipation for just a moment. He slid a single finger inside, groaning at the sensation of being filled once more as his other hand relentlessly stroked his cock. It was nothing like the Bosmer, of course, but he could dream.

“Ryn,” he breathed aloud, unable to stop himself as he squeezed his eyes shut more tightly, almost desperate. A second finger joined the first, and he couldn’t help bucking his hips against it, managing to achieve just the right angle, thanks to his long fingers, to stroke the bunch of tissue inside him. “Guh…” he choked out the noise at the sensation, and suddenly heard a small whimper. _That_ had not come from him.

*****

Ryndoril crept into Ondolemar’s room, silent as always, grateful for the late hour as it allowed far less chance of being seen. It was dark in the room, just a single candle lit by the bed, and Ryndoril presumed the Altmer was asleep.

“Ryn,” he heard a breath from the bed, and moved closer…the elf was spread naked on the bed, one hand wrapped around his cock and the other with a finger firmly buried inside himself. Ryndoril swallowed hard – this was _not_ what he’d expected to find, and he almost couldn’t contain himself. He knew, though, that if Ondolemar saw him, the Altmer would be highly embarrassed and possibly even angry; Ryndoril was very intrigued, and wanted desperately to see this continue, so he vowed to stay silent.

Then Ondolemar slipped a second finger inside himself, and when he choked out an incoherent noise – presumably finding the pleasurable spot within him – Ryndoril couldn’t help himself. He let out a whimper of need – he’d never been so immediately turned on before.

He watched Ondolemar freeze, his eyes snapping open and looking around, finally landing on Ryndoril.

“Sorry, love,” Ryndoril murmured, walking slowly toward the bed, hoping he could still salvage this. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He could see the shame in Ondolemar’s eyes as the desire quickly flowed out of them, even in the dim candlelight.

“Ryn…” Ondolemar choked. “I…” He seemed at a loss for words, but Ryndoril noticed he hadn’t yet moved his hands.

“Go on,” Ryndoril encouraged, almost begging. “Please.” Ondolemar looked conflicted; Ryndoril was sure he wouldn’t, was sure he was going to stop and refuse to speak of this ever again. To his great surprise, however, Ondolemar blew out a breath, kept his eyes on Ryndoril’s, and very slowly and deliberately stroked himself, just once. “Oh, yes, love,” Ryndoril moaned. It had to be one of the most erotic things he’d ever seen.

“Are…are you sure?” Ondolemar managed, barely getting the words out. He was mortified at being caught like this, hand on his cock and fingers up his ass, but seeing the sheer desire in Ryndoril’s eyes as the Bosmer looked at him, it was hard to not want to keep going. Ryndoril nodded slowly, hardly able to believe what he was seeing.

“I want to watch you,” Ryndoril said, the rough voice the same as Ondolemar had imagined it. Well, this was certainly something he’d never done before, but as interested as the Bosmer seemed…he couldn’t deny it was terribly exciting, having his lover watching what he usually did when he was alone.

“Then come here,” Ondolemar breathed, his voice just as rough. The interruption had caused him to lose a bit of his excitement, just enough to not be near the edge anymore, but the Bosmer’s actual presence as opposed to merely imagining it was going to quickly get him back to where he’d been.

“All right,” Ryndoril nodded, quickly disrobing. He’d meant it that he wanted to watch; Ondolemar was beautiful under normal circumstances, but spread out on the bed pleasuring himself he was absolutely exquisite. But he wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to be near the mer while he did it. Once he was as naked as Ondolemar, the other mer cast a lascivious gaze over his body, making Ryndoril grin.

“Please,” Ondolemar begged, stroking himself again and slowly thrusting his fingers inside himself. “Come here. Closer.”

“I want to watch you,” Ryndoril reminded him. “I…you’re gorgeous like this…”

“Fine,” Ondolemar whined, his pace speeding up, “but I just want you near. H-holding me, or touch- _ohh_ ….touching my ears,” he finished with a groan, and Ryndoril couldn’t hold back one of his own.

“Whatever you like,” Ryndoril said, and helped Ondolemar sit up so that he could get behind the mer.

“Oh, Ryn,” Ondolemar groaned, leaning back into the wood elf. “Yes…” Ryndoril was a bit baffled by this; he hadn’t actually done anything yet, but the Altmer seemed to only need his presence.

“That’s right,” Ryndoril encouraged, noticing he’d made it easier for Ondolemar to thrust into himself by propping him up. His length pressed against Ondolemar’s back, but the Altmer hardly seemed to notice. He reached one hand down to stroke the mer’s sensitive nipple, immensely enjoying the groan he got for his efforts as his other hand pulled Ondolemar’s hair back from his ears. He stroked the length of one ear, making Ondolemar shudder, and his lips went to the other ear. “Show me what you like, love.”

“Ohhh, Divines,” Ondolemar groaned, turning louder when Ryndoril sucked the tip of his ear between his lips. The Altmer was sure he must be dreaming; surely it wasn’t possible that he wanted the Bosmer so much he’d actually shown up? The idea was ludicrous, but Ondolemar couldn’t make himself think too hard about it just then. If it was a dream, it was surely a very good one, and he’d let it go on.

“How far along were you?” Ryndoril murmured, letting his tongue flick along the pointed shape of the Altmer’s ear between words. “Before I showed up.” Something in Ondolemar told him the words ought to embarrass him, he ought to feel ashamed of himself, and even more so for the fact that they merely served to increase his desire. Ignoring it, he stroked himself harder.

“C-close,” Ondolemar stammered, hardly able to focus. “I was…close.”

“Fuck,” Ryndoril hissed, trying not to thrust against Ondolemar just for that little bit of contact; it wasn’t about him right now, and he didn’t really want it to be. He was enjoying this entirely too much, one hand pinching and rubbing a nipple while the other tugged on an ear, his tongue playing along the other ear.

“Yes,” Ondolemar whimpered, his breath coming in harsh pants now as his rhythm picked up speed. If he could have asked for anything to make his evening better, he never would have even thought to ask for this. It was perfect. He shut his eyes again, not out of a desire to pretend, but out of a desire to simply feel. Feel Ryndoril’s hands on him, the red hair tickling his shoulder, the hot lips on his ear…and the length pressing against his back. Knowing that simply watching him had turned Ryndoril on so much was a power all of its own, and he found himself close once more. “Ryn…I…I’m close,” he managed, his voice desperate.

“Good,” Ryndoril whispered harshly in his ear. “I want you to come for me, Ondolemar, touch yourself the way you like and come for me, in my arms…” 

The words did it, and Ondolemar came, coating his stomach with his seed as he groaned out Ryndoril’s name. He lay panting in the Bosmer’s arms, trembling from the unexpected force of his release as his fingers slipped out of him, Ryndoril stroking his arms softly.

A moment later, when Ondolemar had regained his senses, it caught up to him what he’d just done. Feeling himself flush all over, he groaned and moved to cover his face with his mostly-clean hand, but Ryndoril held his arms firmly.

“Don’t go getting embarrassed on me now, love,” Ryndoril murmured, lips still mesmerizingly close to Ondolemar’s ear.

“I cannot believe I just did that,” Ondolemar muttered, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to hide himself. It was, of course, useless, but that didn’t change anything. “I…” He couldn’t even find the words.

“Ondolemar, stop it,” Ryndoril ordered, holding the mer firmly and kissing his cheek because he wouldn’t turn for a proper kiss. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life and I’m not letting you ruin it for me.” Ondolemar couldn’t help but give a small laugh at that.

“You are out of your mind,” he said, shaking his head.

“Maybe,” Ryndoril agreed, and this time forced Ondolemar’s head around to kiss him gently. “But you’re still gorgeous, love, and I can think of no better welcome home than that. You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” Ondolemar was silent. He couldn’t _admit_ it. “Come on, after all we’ve done, and this bothers you?” Ryndoril teased. Ondolemar huffed.

“Considering it was meant to be private,” he muttered. “What are you doing, sneaking into my room anyway?”

“I _always_ sneak into your room,” Ryndoril reminded him, holding onto the Altmer’s chin and looking him in the eye. “So you better get used to it.” With that, he kissed Ondolemar deeply, his tongue running along the mer’s lips and making him shudder. “You seem to think I will be judging you for this,” Ryndoril said softly as he pulled away, releasing Ondolemar’s chin and cradling the mer’s head to his chest. “You know me better than that, love. I _enjoyed_ it. It’s okay that you did, too.”

“Still improper,” Ondolemar said, though he was feeling a bit better about it.

“Yes, and everything else we’ve done together is so proper,” Ryndoril teased. Ondolemar simply shook his head tiredly. “Going to fall asleep now, love?”

“Very close to it,” Ondolemar snorted. “I feel it would be far more improper to leave you wanting, however.” Ryndoril grinned.

“Not that I’d object,” he said, “but if you need to sleep – “

“I _need_ ,” Ondolemar said firmly, turning on his own to face Ryndoril now, “to tell you how glad I am that you are back. I’ve missed you.” Ryndoril’s grin made his eyes crinkle.

“I’ve missed you, too, love,” he said, and kissed the mer softly. “But we have time. I’m not running off first thing in the morning.” Ondolemar sighed, sinking back into Ryndoril’s arms properly.

“Then perhaps I _shall_ sleep,” he admitted, honestly tired whatever he tried to protest.

“Go on,” Ryndoril encouraged, squeezing the Altmer before adjusting them slightly so that he was next to the elf rather than beneath him, pulling Ondolemar’s head back to his chest. “Sleep, love, and I’ll be here in the morning.”

“Will you?” Ondolemar mused sleepily as Ryndoril stroked his hair. “You’re not an especially vivid dream?” He felt Ryndoril’s low chuckle.

“I don’t think I am,” Ryndoril said, amused, “but I guess you can never be sure.”

“Hmm,” Ondolemar managed. “Too perfect for a dream,” he concluded, barely getting the words out. The next moment, he was asleep. Ryndoril smiled, continuing to stroke the silky, still-damp hair – clearly the elf had just bathed.

Ryndoril didn’t particularly feel like taking care of himself, even after all that, and was glad when he managed to calm down to the point he might be able to get to sleep as well. He would much rather wait for the next morning and Ondolemar’s touch.

It was, indeed, good to be home. And a little part of him had registered the fact that even when he thought he was alone, Ondolemar still thought of Ryndoril.

*****

Ondolemar awoke with a renewed sense of embarrassment the next morning, realizing that Ryndoril actually _was_ there, and he _had_ actually gotten himself off while the other mer watched. Even remembering it, though, brought on a perverse sort of pleasure.

And really, he thought to himself, it wasn’t as though he’d _asked_ the Bosmer to sneak in and watch him! It was hardly his fault.

 _But you did beg him to stay and hold you, didn’t you?_ A smug voice in his head chimed in. Annoyed, he told it to shut up. And really, so what if he had? What was so wrong with wanting his lover around for his pleasure anyway? It wasn’t as though one of his _guards_ had caught him. He shuddered in distaste at that idea. Thank the Divines it _hadn’t_ been one of his guards.

And anyway, Ryndoril had certainly seemed to be enjoying himself, Ondolemar thought with a satisfied smirk. He remembered how he’d left the mer wanting as he fell asleep the night before – it hardly seemed fair, and after Ryndoril had been so kind and caring, too. It had been nothing like having his Bosmer properly, of course, but there was a certain appeal in having Ryndoril there to lean against, to touch him even as he touched himself. Remembering his own hand stroking his cock while the Bosmer whispered in his ear made him shudder.

Ryndoril whined softly in his sleep, and Ondolemar turned his gaze to the Bosmer’s face. He didn’t seem to be in pain…and then the elf thrust against Ondolemar’s hip, and the Altmer realized exactly what the problem was.

Well, one kindness deserved another, did it not? Ondolemar smirked, then carefully moved himself down beneath the blankets, his head level with Ryndoril’s cock. An exploring tongue found the length desperately hard and swollen, very much in need of attention, and so Ondolemar placed his lips around Ryndoril’s tip and sucked, taking him into his mouth. Typically he would insist the Bosmer bathe before doing such a thing, but it was easy enough to tell that Ryndoril smelled clean; obviously he’d bathed before coming to Ondolemar’s room the night before.

“Gods,” Ryndoril moaned, bucking up into Ondolemar’s mouth, and Ondolemar felt fingers tangle in his hair. A glance upward, though, told him the mer was still asleep. Grinning to himself, since he couldn’t exactly make the expression with his mouth full, he slid his mouth further down, taking Ryndoril into the very back of his throat. He went slowly and concentrated; the few times he’d practiced such a thing so far, that had seemed to be the key.

He only managed to stay there for a few seconds, but when he pulled back to breathe and keep from gagging, he saw Ryndoril’s startled brown eyes gazing down at him, his mouth slightly open in shock.

“Ond…Ondolemar?” he said, his voice strained and confused. In response, Ondolemar sucked Ryndoril’s tip, sliding his tongue around it to the sensitive spot just underneath. Ryndoril groaned, his head sinking back to the pillows, and the Altmer decided that must mean Ryndoril had accepted that this was actually happening and was more than willing to go with it. He felt the Bosmer’s fingers tighten in his hair, not painfully but just enough to let him know how good he made Ryndoril feel.

Ondolemar began a steady pace then; the Bosmer had seemed to be quite needy when he’d started, and he didn’t want to draw it out longer than necessary. The elf hadn’t forced him to wait last night, and in any case, Ryndoril had been waiting _since_ last night.

“Ohhh, yes, love,” Ryndoril murmured encouragingly, stroking through Ondolemar’s hair. “Yes…gods, you’re so good at this.” Ondolemar couldn’t help feeling smug; he’d never been with anyone else and had no practice before meeting Ryndoril, but the Bosmer _had_ been with other lovers, so he had plenty to compare to. To think Ondolemar was good at it…well, it must be true, then.

The Altmer’s hands were braced on the Bosmer’s thighs as he continued his steady strokes, his tongue flicking Ryndoril’s tip every time he pulled back. After a moment, he felt a trembling hand press something hard against his fingers; he glanced up and saw it was the bottle of oil. Smirking, at least as well as he could around Ryndoril’s length, he took the bottle and released the Bosmer’s cock, flicking his tongue against him once more.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice rough and a bit thick as he uncorked the bottle of oil and coated his fingers. Ryndoril laughed shakily.

“A very good morning, provided you keep doing that,” Ryndoril said, his hand still in Ondolemar’s hair as he caressed the elf’s head. The sweetness of the gesture made Ondolemar’s heart flip-flop. He didn’t say anything else, preferring to put his lips to better use as he pressed his finger between Ryndoril’s buttocks, seeking out the warmth of his entrance and finally being rewarded with a gasp as he found it.

Sucking Ryndoril as deeply as he could, Ondolemar wasted no time in fully entering the Bosmer with a finger, not particularly wanting to be slow and gentle. It didn’t seem that Ryndoril minded as he cried out, tightening his fingers against Ondolemar’s scalp. Ondolemar stilled his finger, continuing his steady but slightly faster pace with his mouth and giving the Bosmer a moment to breathe again. He felt the cock between his lips twitch as he touched the sensitive tissue inside his lover, eliciting a long, low groan from the Bosmer.

He found very little to be more pleasing to him than knowing he was pleasing Ryndoril so well; the elf meant so much to him that it gave him a little thrill every time the Bosmer cried out while he touched him. 

“More, please, _more_ ,” Ryndoril begged, his fingers tugging at Ondolemar’s hair as though he couldn’t quite figure out _what_ he wanted. Ondolemar obeyed, however, and picked up his pace, rubbing over the spot inside the Bosmer with every thrust of his finger. “Oh, yes…oh, gods! Ondolemar…love…yes! I’m – I’m getting close – ohhhh!” He descended into nonsensical moans as his hand fingers pulled at Ondolemar’s hair, a little painful now as he felt the Bosmer erupt into his throat. Forcing himself not to gag – it was frequently a problem for him – he continued his ministrations until the Bosmer was clearly quite finished.

As Ryndoril lay in a boneless heap, panting for breath, Ondolemar swallowed and removed his finger from the Bosmer, gently stroking his thigh.

“Oh, love,” Ryndoril breathed pleasantly, gently petting Ondolemar’s hair again as Ondolemar rested his head on the Bosmer’s thigh. “If that’s what happens every time I catch you, I’m going to try to do it more often.” Ondolemar chuckled, though he reddened.

“You will not,” he said. “I don’t intend to make this a regular occurrence.”

“I don’t see why not,” Ryndoril grinned, looking down at the Altmer now. “It was damn hot, and you ought to get to feel good, even if I’m not around to help.”

“I meant getting caught,” Ondolemar said dryly. Ryndoril’s grin widened.

“So I do still get to picture you touching yourself and calling my name?” he said wickedly, causing the Altmer to blush more furiously. Ryndoril laughed. “Oh, come on, love. It’s a _good_ thing, you know.”

“And if I’d walked in on _you_ doing it?” Ondolemar countered, though he realized as soon as he said it he already knew the answer.

“I would’ve asked you to join right in,” Ryndoril laughed. “And been all the happier for it.” Ondolemar shook his head, but pressed his lips to the Bosmer’s thigh softly anyway.

“Thank you,” he murmured, staring up at Ryndoril.

“What for, love?” Ryndoril asked, his voice soft and sweet.

“For…helping, last night,” Ondolemar said, trying to push away the feeling of awkwardness about it. Around Ryndoril, at least, he didn’t need to be embarrassed. He ought to know that.

“Anytime,” Ryndoril said, and his voice was more sincere than teasing this time. “I really did enjoy it, you know. You make a gorgeous sight, all aroused like that.”

“As any superiorly-bred Altmer should,” he said smugly. Ryndoril laughed and shoved him, causing Ondolemar to grin, too.

He was a very _lucky_ superiorly-bred Altmer, that much was certain.


End file.
